Three Things That Never Happened
by dontbesojaded
Summary: So I know this is unpopular in this fandom, but I figured I'd try my hand at it anyways. The first one takes place just after ANH...and the rest...well I'll figure it out as I go along. Han/Leia centered. Read and Review! WARNING: attempted (and totally failed) suicide.
1. ashes and wine

_#1 __ashes and wine_

_is there a chance? _

_a fragment of light at the end of this tunnel _

_a reason to fight?_

_(A Fine Frenzy)_

The metal of the blaster was cool against her temple, the trigger hot under fingertips. Her right hand clutched a glass of Alderaanian Ale and she touched it to her lips before tucking it against her chest, as if intent on carrying it into the afterlife with her.

She supposed she should feel nervous, maybe even excited, but she didn't. Instead she felt numb, and that was alright with her. Her eyelids fluttered shut, a small smile played on her lips and she curved her finger, seconds away from blasting herself away from any hope of ever feeling anything again.

"Hey, your worship the kid wants to-what are you doing?" His voice seeped into her silence, bringing with it an odd sort of awareness she hadn't felt in a while, and maybe a touch of fear.

She considered squeezing the trigger anyway, but she was far too thoughtful to leave him with the mess of her death on his hands. Instead, she sighed and dropped the gun. Her chest loosened with a relief she pretended not to feel and she gulped a breath. A little voice at the back of her mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, she was still too young to die.

She turned to him, he was still frozen across the room an expression of almost comical shock on his face. She realized, that had she been quick enough, he would have let her do it. Somehow, she liked him more for that. When was the last time anyone had ever trusted her with her own decisions?

"Of course _you_ would interrupt, Captain." She leaned back against her desk, the hand that had held the blaster now clinging to the edge of the table, holding her upright.

He crossed the room, reaching deftly around her to pluck the gun from the table, weighing it in his hands. "What were you, uh, planning on doing with this, exactly?"

"You know exactly what. Don't be condescending." She snapped at him, but made no move to retrieve her weapon.

"I do?"

"Yes. You do." She threw her hands in the air to fully express her exasperation. It took the entire decent to the floor for her to realize mistake. Because if it was worth anything and if the empty bottle on the desk was any proof, she may have had too much to drink. She blinked, but didn't make any move to rise, trying hold onto at least some of her dignity.

"Do you think, your worship, that you might be a little bit drunk?"

That wasn't worth answering, and Gods, she hated that tone. She was not a child, and if she could have made her lips form the words she would have told him so. Instead she groaned and rested her aching forehead on her hands. She couldn't even kill herself correctly, and really, if you can't even figure out how to correctly end your life, how in the hell are you supposed to correctly live it? Now _thats_ a question worth answering, she thought.

Han looked down at her, her hair falling out of its elaborate braids, her cheeks red from frustration and alcohol and for a moment, she could have been beautiful. Not in that drop-dead way the girls in the cantina's with the fuck-me heels were, he was very familiar with that way. No, she was beautiful in a different way, she was all soft lines and full lips. She was beautiful in a way that could break your heart, if you were so stupid as to let her get her hands on it in the first place.

"C'mon, let me help you up." He offered her his hand.

For a few moments she didn't move; didn't make a sound. Then, in a voice so soft at first he thought he was imagining things she whispered: "You would have let me."

"Sorry, your highness, I didn't catch that."

She looked up at him, her eyes red but mercifully dry. "You would have let me pull the trigger."

He swallowed. Nodded. His eyes focusing on a point beyond her face.

She took his hand, and he pulled her up. He released her fingers as soon as she was steady on her feet, but she planted her palms on his chest and looked up at him, her eyes shining.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know...because its your life, I guess. If it was really that bad then...who am I to say its going to get better?" He rubbed the back of his neck, and looked away.

"Luke would have stopped me."

He nodded. "Probably."

She smiled suddenly, brilliantly, rocking up onto her toes and putting her lips near his ear, "I'm glad you aren't Luke."

Then her lips were on his, her arms twining around his neck. She had caught him off guard, her lips stealing whatever words he was going to say next. His hands found her hair, and she tasted like ashes and wine.

In his minds eye he could see how this would play out, with clothes strewn across the floor and inhibitions left behind. But by the time it was over she would have captured him. He would be in love and she would still only be intoxicated. It took all of his resolve to push her away, hold her at arms length, "You're drunk."

"So?"

"So, you're going to regret this in the morning."

"Maybe, maybe not."

He barked a laugh, "No, trust me, you will. And you wouldn't be the first, sweetheart."

"Ten minutes ago you were willing to let me kill myself, captain. Now I can't even decide who I want to sleep with?"

"Oh, is that where this was headed?"

She looked at him levelly. "That's not an answer."

He shook his head. "C'mon, lets get you sobered up."

"I told you. I'm not drunk..." Her words were drowned out as he walked into the 'fresher, switching on the shower and setting it to its coldest temperature.

"Come on, your highness." He grumbled, grabbing her elbow and forcing her under the spray.

"What are you doing!?" She screeched half-heartedly as ice water ran down her back, her arms, her face washing away the haze of alcohol and clearing her head. Her cheeks were hot under the freezing spray, as liquid courage gave way to embarrassment and shame.

He leaned against the wall outside the fresher and watched her, a smile playing at his lips.

"Oh, yes, yes this is very funny." She deadpanned as she glared at him. "You are such a scoundrel."

"Ah! That sounds more like the Leia I know."

She turned off the torrent of water, making the room uncomfortably silent and rubbed her hands over her goosebump covered arms.

"You don't know me." She said flatly.

He smile fell from his lips. "No, I guess you're right."

He offered her his arm again as she stepped from the shower; she ignored him and stepped out with surprising grace for a girl who couldn't stand alone moments ago. She shivered as she grabbed for a towel, her white dress clinging to her body and her hair dripping rivulets down her shoulders.

"I'd like to though." He said softly.

She looked at him, as if surprised he was still there. Then she smiled with a warmth that meant so much more when it wasn't infused with alcohol.

"I'd like that too."

He leaned towards her, and before he could stop himself, kissed her softly on the cheek. He hovered there for a moment, his breath hot near her ear. "Next time, I'm going to stop you."

She considered shaking her head, denying the rescue he was proposing, explaining she there wouldn't be a next time, but instead she nodded, bit her lip and smiled.

"Okay."

* * *

Well, that was...odd? My fics are never what I intend them to be. Anyways, tell me what you thought. The first one to review can have a cookie and a request! (actually if _anyone_ has requests...I'm constantly in need of motivation and inspiration.


	2. goodbye

**I wrote this in a little different style, let me know what you think of it. Timeline for this is post-Bespin, the catch is that everything went fine there. Han didn't get frozen in carbonite which means he still has to leave to pay of Jabba. Please ignore the HUGE repercussions it would have on the rest of the trilogy if everything had gone fine and dandy in the Cloud City. Read and review please! Excuse some shoddy grammar, it was thrown out the window in favor of artistic expression. ;) **

**DISCLAIMER: All Disney's. **

**Rating: T (for one f-bomb dropped).**

**P.S.- Sorry for the length, I don't have time to write anything longer right now, but I wanted to get this up! **

* * *

_#2- goodbye_

_goodbye my almost lover_

_goodbye my hopeless dream _

_should have known you'd bring me heartache..._

_almost lovers always do _

_(A Fine Frenzy) _

He'd always been so damn stubborn. That was fine; so was she (but that was beside the point). Maybe it was even more than fine, maybe she liked him because she couldn't walk all over him. But, Gods, if stubbornness was an asset, then it was ten times more of a caveat.

Their combined obstinance led to arguments(battles), but that wasn't the problem. She could deal with fighting with him; enjoyed it actually. No, it was because he had to leave. And he _would_ leave. And, here's the catch: she was powerless to stop him(not that she hadn't tried; she had). But she had the upper hand, because she knew that. She knew he would leave her. She Knew with a capital K and thirty exclamation points. So she steeled herself against whatever she had been feeling for him and built up walls ten feet high, unscalable but maybe not indestructible (though she would never admit it).

And then, _damn him_, he kissed her (so you see, this really was all his fault). And her walls didn't just break, they crumbled, they fell to pieces. All her hard work was savagely slashed apart, and the worst(best) part was; she didn't care.

She didn't fall for him, no, falling implies that it was an accident. And in a sense it was. But in another, _truer_ sense, Leia Organa of the late planet Alderaan made a conscious choice to leap into the arms of a man who could only hold her for so long.

And, why, you might ask? Why would she do such a stupid, naive thing when she Knew?

And she would tell you: she just wanted, for once, for something to be easy. In her life of "no"s and dead-ends couldn't she have this one thing? This one man? She'd already given so much (all she had).

And you may call this denial, but she calls it survival.

So she had gotten her one thing, her one man. She had made her deal with the Dark Side and sold her soul(heart). She had gotten him and conveniently forgotten to specify for how long she wanted him. And Clause #1 on her contract said the following: He's leaving. And Clause #2 stated: He's never coming back. (and in teeny-tiny bolded letters at the bottom it said: **You. Can't. Stop. Him.**) It was odd that a politician should forget to read the fine print but she did forget and she didn't read and she signed away her heart without a moments pause. She Forgot with a capitol F (and fifty exclamation points) that he was going to leave after Bespin.

Forgetting is nice when Knowing hurts. Its a strong drug, a helpful painkiller when life becomes cruel and Knowledge becomes fatal. So she Forgot. Temporarily.

Because now here they were, standing on a cold metal platform under a grey sky and she was remembering. She recalled a time when her Sensibility lectured her on the dangers of falling(leaping) for a (leaving) man. She also recalled a time when she told her Sensibility to fuck off and lept anyways. But now neither of those things mattered (because no one wants to here about the prologue to a horrible decision, especially the person who made it) because here they were. And here she was: heart pounding in her chest, wind whipping at her long braid and rain starting to fall. And here he was: leaving, leaving, and_ leaving_. And she Knew (with one hundred exclamation points and a broken heart).

She was thinking it was appropriate weather for a funeral, and the thought came without warning (although, really, since when do thoughts come with warnings? Some should because some thoughts _hurt). S_he audibly gasped at the truth of it. There was one more thing she Knew (but she'd always pretended she didn't) and it was that if(when)he left, he would never come back. Jabba would kill him.

So she was seeing him move down a line of well-wishing rebel pilots and they were the mourning party. He would come to say good-bye and she would be the priest who would give the final blessing._ I allow you, Han Solo, to go fly off to Jabba and die._ She wasn't smiling although she supposed thats what they call gallows humour (but she'd been to gallows and no one was ever laughing).

She'd never understood what it was to be 'rendered speechless'. She could never recall having absolutely nothing to say (and there are many an annoyed senator who can attest to that). But here he was, suddenly (and everything was moving too fast), standing in front of her. And here she was, her mouth was slightly open and no words coming out and all she could think was, _I'm rendered speechless_.

What was there to say? Goodbye? Too formal(final). See you soon? Too wrong (and why picking the right words felt suspiciously like picking out the right evening gown was beyond her, but she hated both). I love you? Too...true. But no. She wouldn't say it. _Couldn't_ say it. 'I love you' sounded eerily close to a goodbye. And she wasn't ready to say goodbye, not yet.

"Don't say goodbye." She blurts, her cheeks flushing crimson. That didn't sound right, that sounded like a childish plea. She looks up at him. "I mean," she takes a breath, "Don't tell me you aren't coming back." There it was, not a plea, but an order.

He shrugs. "Ok, I won't say it then. But, Leia-"

She holds up her hand to stop him, "No. No buts, just don't say it"

"What would you like me to say then?"

_I love you. I'll come back. I'll see you soon. _She can feel the tears pounding at the back of her eyes and she remembers her father, _Never let them see you cry, Leia, never. _

"Anything, just not goodbye." Her hands are shaking. Her voice is quavering on the edge of hysteria. But she does not cry.

And then, _damn him,_ he kisses her (and you see? You see how he kisses her and it all goes to hell?). In front of everyone, in the middle of a rainstorm on a windy landing dock, and when he pulls away she can't pretend the tears are raindrops.

"Alright," he almost whispers, but everyone can hear (and she knows they are watching now because the collective gasp when he kissed her was enormous) "Its not good bye." But it is. It is goodbye. She Knows (with thousands of exclamation points, a broken heart, and tears running down her cheeks). So she says it, because what does she have to lose? She's already lost him(it all).

Her voice doesn't shake when she says, "I love you."

He Knows.

* * *

**So? **


End file.
